the distance of things.

thedustdancestoo:

she felt insignificant, that’s all.
especially at night with the lights off,
or whenever she looked up into space.

238,850.737 miles

that’s the distance to the moon,
she thought, trying to breathe
but unable to move her lungs

because the distance between things
was measured more in feelings
than feet—

and she felt it, deep and encompassing,
inside every part of her,
as if it were swallowing her up. 

(Source: thedustdancestoo, via emotionaltrickery)

It is much, much worse to receive bad news through the written word than by somebody simply telling you, and I’m sure you understand why. When somebody simply tells you bad news, you hear it once, and that’s the end of it. But when bad news is written down, whether in a letter or a newspaper or on your arm in felt tip pen, each time you read it, you feel as if you are receiving the news again and again. Lemony Snicket, Horseradish: Bitter Truths You Can’t Avoid  

(Source: infelicific, via emotionaltrickery)